


Voiceless

by foxthefanboi



Series: Mute!Sam [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Mute Sam Winchester, Pre-Season/Series 01, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxthefanboi/pseuds/foxthefanboi
Summary: 13-year-old Sam has permanently lost his voice. He's frustrated by his inability to talk, so he looks for a solution.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Mute!Sam [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059017
Kudos: 45





	Voiceless

"I'm just saying, if it came down to it, Batman could definitely beat Superman in a fight," Dean said to Sam. They were hanging out in the apartment Dad had left them at, reading (and now arguing over) the latest issues of some of the comics they were able to shoplift from the store down the street.

Sam shook his head and scribbled something on the notepad in front of him. He'd lost his voice after his vocal cords had been damaged in an altercation with a witch two weeks ago—almost definitely for good, as far as they could tell—and he was still getting adjusted to it.

It took Sam a while to write out what he was trying to say and Dean fiddled awkwardly with a loose thread on the couch while he waited. After thirty seconds or so, Sam finished writing and spun the notepad around to face Dean.

_Superman is_  
_1\. invulnerable_  
_2\. really fast_  
_3\. really strong_  
_4\. actually super-powered_

Dean took a moment to read it. "Yeah, but Batman has the brains to work around that. And he keeps kryptonite around. Superman? He's nothing when the kryptonite cancels out his powers."

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled back the notepad, writing on it again. _What if he doesn't have kryptonite?_

"Then he figures something else out," Dean said. "He's Batman."

Sam glared at Dean and paused with his pen hovering over the notepad. Finally he started writing. Dean waited while he scribbled something down, peeking over to see what was being written while he was still writing it. _I can't write fast enough to tell you how wrong you are._

Dean laughed. "I wish you could talk so we could have this argument for real. I'd still win."

Sam scowled and drew something, ending with two furious scribbles. He held it up to show Dean. An angry face, the eyebrows thick where the pen had pressed down hard. 

Sam tossed the notepad on the coffee table and stood up, headed towards the bedroom—the only place in the tiny apartment with any semblance of privacy. Dean quickly jumped to his feet, grabbing Sam's arm. God, he'd been such a jerk. Sam was feeling frustrated and depressed about being unable to talk, and Dean had just joked about it."Sam, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Sam shook off his arm and looked at Dean. Dean expected him to look angry, but he just had that puppy dog look on his face, his eyes shining with tears. Dean felt a pang of guilt. He would give anything to lessen Sam's distress, but there was nothing he could do.

Without another word, Sam turned away, striding into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

Dean looked at the closed door for a few long moments. Sam was really having a tough time. And if he admitted it, so was he. He felt selfish thinking it. But he missed talking to Sam. Sam's laugh, and his sarcastic tone, and the way he responded "jerk" when Dean called him "bitch." With how much they moved around, they were usually each other's only company, and Sam's inability to talk was taking away the two-sidedness that conversations needed to actually flow.

But even though Dean wished Sam could talk again, he knew it wasn't anything compared to how much Sam himself wanted his voice back.

* * *

Sam was having some of the worst two weeks of his life, and he wanted to talk to Dean about how completely miserable he was. But he couldn't. He couldn't talk to anyone, and probably never would again.

He flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling gloomily. A feeling of hopelessness washed over him. Was it even worth it, to continue when he was missing something as basic as speech? It didn't seem possible to go through life like this. He'd barely even been able to make it through the past two weeks.

He took a deep breath and tried to push the despair away just for a moment, just so he could pause and take some time to think through it rationally. Though he wasn't happy with it, he was already living an unusual, stressful life. Moving frequently, researching how to kill monsters, learning how to fight and shoot a gun. If he could live with that, he could live with this.

He just had to figure out a way to adjust to it. Surely other people had gone through this too. If he could figure out how they dealt with it, he could learn from their experiences to adapt.

He emerged from the room and went to go put on his shoes and jacket.

"Hey, where are you going?" Dean asked.

Sam turned to look at him, exasperated. As if he could answer.

Seeming to sense his thoughts, Dean picked up the notepad and pen and brought them to Sam.

Sam took them from Dean. _Library_ , he wrote.

"I'll come with you," Dean said, reaching for his jacket.

Sam added a word and underlined it emphatically. _Alone_.

Dean looked uneasy but he nodded. He glanced at the clock. Three in the afternoon. "Okay, but be back by seven, all right? At the latest." 

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded before slipping out.

* * *

As the clock approached seven, Dean was starting to get worried. He knew, logically, that Sam was fine. He could take care of himself. But still, he felt a wave of relief when there was a click as the door unlocked and Sam opened it.

"Cutting it close," Dean said, as Sam came in and kicked off his shoes.

Sam didn't even look peeved by his comment, as Dean expected he would. Instead, his eyes were lit up with excitement. He walked over to the couch and sat down, then pulled the notepad towards him. When Dean didn't move, he beckoned him over. Dean sat down next to Sam, wondering what had changed his mood so dramatically.

Sam made some gestures, a big smile on his face. Dean furrowed his brow. "What?"

Sam picked up the notepad and flipped to a new page. _Sign language_. He made the gestures again.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Like, for deaf people?"

Sam nodded and made some more gestures—signs, Dean corrected himself. He wrote something again. _I'll teach you._

Dean got it now. He felt a smile tug up the corner of his mouth as he looked down at the paper. _Sign language._ "You sign, I talk. Easy communication. Right?"

Sam nodded. He seemed like he was the happiest he'd been since the run-in with the witch. Dean grinned at him. Anything that made Sam happy, made him happy too. 

"Alright, bro," he said, ruffling Sam's hair. "How much did you learn today?"

Sam frowned and wrote, _Not a lot._

"No problem, you've got plenty of time to learn. You wanna do something that doesn't involve talking in the meantime? TV maybe? You learn how to say TV yet?" 

Sam nodded. He made a fist, his thumb between his index and middle finger, and then held his fingers up in a V. He did it one more time. 

"TV. I'll remember that." He picked up the remote and turned on the TV. He passed the remote to Sam. "Your choice."

Sam made another sign—hand flat, touching his fingers to his chin and then dropping his hand a bit towards Dean.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked, mimicking the gesture. He narrowed his eyes. "Are you calling me names?"

Sam wrote something. _It means thanks. Dumbass._ He signed something and then tapped on the word _dumbass_ with a smirk.

"Wow, just a couple hours of learning sign language and you still learn how to insult me, huh?"

Sam nodded and gave Dean a wicked grin. Dean punched Sam's arm, but he couldn't even be mad. He was just happy that Sam had found a way for them to communicate better, even if it did mean Sam would be trying out some new offensive words on him for a while.


End file.
